and the day came
by airbefore
Summary: She's been struggling to find the words for months, to tell him how much she loves and adores him, how happy he makes her. How she feels like a whole person when she's with him. How he fills the empty places inside her chest with his love and his smiles.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. Long time. I'm going to give this site another whirl, but only for non-M rated fic (for now at least). If you want to see all of my fic, follow me on twitter or tumblr (same name both places) or take a look at my livejournal, which is listed in my profile. Thanks in advance for reading.

Italicized sections are flashbacks.

**Disclaimer**: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

* * *

_And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. _

_- __Anaïs Nin_

The silence is deafening. Her apartment breathes around them, the dim white noise of appliances and steady hum of traffic amplified in the vacuum of their muted voices.

He stands in the entryway, hands fisted tightly at his sides, knuckles blanching from the force of his grip. His body is vibrating with rigidity, his neck and shoulders tense lines, jaw clenched and twitching. Her chest heaves with the aftershocks of her last verbal attack, blood hot and thick in her veins.

He breaks first.

"Beckett," she cringes internally at the slice of her surname, the acid dripping from the sharp edges of the consonants, "I can't be the only one in this. I can't hold this relationship together by myself. Not anymore."

"You knew who I was when we started this, Castle." She tries to keep her voice calm and even, desperately seeks some kind of center. "You can't expect me to change just because we're sleeping together."

"Sleeping together? Is that -" Anger rolls across his face, hard and fast, his eyes slipping shut in the wake of it. He takes a step closer to her and releases a slow, shaky breath. "Is that what this is to you? Us _sleeping _together?"

She can't speak. Can't find the words to tell him that it's not; that it's so much more than that. It's everything. Everything she'd hoped it be. Everything she never knew she wanted until him.

She's been struggling to find the words for months, to tell him how much she loves and adores him, how happy he makes her. How she feels like a whole person when she's with him. How he fills the empty places inside her chest with his love and his smiles.

Her traitorous body won't allow the words to come. Her throat is thick and closed, her lungs spasming against her ribs. The smothering panic sets in, the way it always does in these moments. The moments when her heart almost succeeds in making itself heard, in overriding her head.

She blinks at him, her eyes wide and dry. She wants to reach out. Wants to touch him and _show_ him how she feels. But that's what led them to this place. The place where he realizes just how damaged she actually is and decides he can't take it anymore. Somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice sings a song of vindication, crowing out lyrics about the inevitability of this moment with a chorus of harmonizing I told you sos.

Castle sighs, his shoulders sagging as the fight drains out of him. She watches the shutters go up behind his eyes, watches him give up.

On her.

On them.

"Okay, Kate. Okay."

He grabs his jacket from her coat rack, thrusts his hands deep into the pockets. She hears the dull jingle of metal and feels herself sway a little on the spot. His hand comes free of the fabric, a tangle lump of keys clutched tightly in his fingers. Without looking at her, Castle isolates the key to her door and slides it from the ring, places it gently on the solid oak table. She wonders briefly how the table manages to remain standing under the weight of his actions.

His head lifts and he looks at her, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You know where to find me."

Slowly, his hope for her to stop him cushioning his every movement, he turns and walks out the door.

Kate stands motionless in the living room, arms limp at her sides. She wants to chase him down, to give him her battered and bloodied heart. Rip the organ from her chest in the middle of the street and hand it to him. It's his.

She's his.

* * *

_She wakes slowly, her body heavy and warm. His arm is thrown over her waist, elbow bent, fingers curled into the soft skin at her ribs. The sheet slips down her legs as she stretches, her protesting joints and muscles making themselves known. He sniffs and tightens his grip, pulling her closer, his chest pressed firmly into her back. _

"_Tell me this isn't a dream." _

_The rough timbre of his voice, scratchy with sleep and disbelief, undoes her._

"_Nope," she sighs, rolling over in his arms and sliding one leg between his. "Very much not a dream."_

_He runs a hand through her hair, traces the pads of his fingers down the line of her neck. His eyes rove her face, and she tries not to flinch under his naked examination. She knows he has questions. They didn't really take the time to talk before, caught up so completely in the pull of each other's bodies. Of finally being able to give in. _

"_Ask me."_

_He sighs and closes his eyes, the hand on her neck going still. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his shoulder, rests her nose against skin. He smells like cologne and sex and man and she feels the fire ignite in her veins again, her body coming alive in his arms. _

"_Are you staying?"_

_She pulls back slowly, the cool fabric of the pillowcase rustling under her head, and examines his face, his eyes screwed tightly shut, worry lines creasing his brow. It's not exactly the question she was expecting but she's not surprised by it either. She knows she's given him absolutely no reason to trust her. Has actively worked to destroy his faith in her. _

_Her hand moves to his cheek, fingers running along the stubble at his jaw. He opens his eyes slowly, fear and hope warring on his face. _

"_Yes, Castle. I'm staying." _

_His entire body shudders with relief and he tightens his arms, gathering her up against his chest. He buries his nose in her hair and she presses her lips to his neck, tastes his pounding heartbeat. Her hands roam across his chest, tiny circles meant to sooth and calm. She feels him start to react to her, the heavy blanket of sleep falling away, leaving his body warm and thrumming under her hands. _

_He tilts his head down until his lips are brushing her cheek, paper thin kisses that make her ache with tenderness and want and so much love. _

"_I love you, Kate." _

_His words are a hot current against her ear, feathering her hair across her neck. She surges forward and takes his mouth, presses her lips insistently to his. He groans and wraps a large hand around her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss. Rolling them over, he pins her to the bed with his strong hips and broad chest. He pulls away and hovers over her on bent elbows, his eyes dark and bottomless. _

"_We have to talk. I need to know what happened."_

"_Later," she murmurs, lifting her head off the pillow to chase his mouth. "I promise, I'll tell you everything." _

_She scrapes her nails down his back, runs over the curve of his ass, the coarse hair on his thighs. His eyes flutter shut when she starts the return trip, the tips of her fingers ghosting over his hips and ribs. _

"_Kate -" His voice is strained, teetering on the edge of control. _

"_Later, Castle." _

_She arches up into him and sucks on the ridge of his collarbone, her teeth nipping at the thin skin. He collapses back onto her, his body winning the battle for now. His hands perform a slow and thorough exploration of her skin, seeking out the places that make her sigh his name into the early morning light._

* * *

Her skin turns red as she sways under the water. The shower is scalding but it's not enough. Not enough to make her forget. Not enough to cauterize the open wound of her chest.

He left.

She repeats the words over and over in her mind, trying to make them real. Turning into the unrelenting spray, she closes her eyes and tries to block out the image of him walking away.

He didn't look back.

The air feels like molasses as she shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, her limbs heavy and hot. She dries herself hastily, staring at the shirt hanging from a hook on the back of her bathroom door; she'd pilfered it from him early on, wanting to have something of his for the nights they spent apart. Her hand shakes as she reaches for the limp cotton, beads of water running off the tips of her fingers.

Pulling it slowly from the hook, she turns and deposits the steam dampened shirt in her laundry basket. She wants to pull it over her head and crawl into bed, drown herself in his scent. But she's not that person. She doesn't do things like that.

Which is exactly the problem.


	2. Chapter 2

The phone is heavy in her hand. Her thumb hovers over the tiny blue button; the trigger that will shoot her message out into the digital ether, her first contact with him since he walked away from her three days ago.

The bullpen bustles with activity around her, oblivious to the war being waged inside her body. Head and heart locked in epic conflict. She stares at the screen, the cursor blinking at her accusingly. Reminding her of her cowardice. She should suck it up and send the message. There's no point in arguing with herself over it. He'll either come or he won't.

The latter option steals her breath for a moment, makes her blood run cold. She's always been certain that he'll show up. Even when they were at their worst, he never stopped showing up. But now -

Shaking her head, Kate deletes the message and shuts the phone in her desk drawer. She can't take the risk, no matter how much she wants to. She feels guilty for not giving him the benefit of the doubt but the potential for hurt is just too great. She can't do it.

"Hey, Beckett." Ryan's voice breaks through the din inside her head, pulling her sharply back to reality. "Lanie just called. She found something on the body. I'm going to head over and take a look."

A sudden wave of claustrophobia overtakes her, the oppressive weight of panic and inaction pressing down on her body. She's not particularly looking forward to the inquisition she'll be forced to sit through once she comes face to face with Lanie but even that is a better prospect than sitting at her desk, staring in turn at his empty chair and her silent phone.

"Actually, Ryan, do you mind if I go? I could use the fresh air." The young detective looks a little startled but whether it's from her admission of need or her asking his permission, she's not sure. She's been back at work for only a few weeks and they've yet to find their groove as a team again.

"Yeah, okay. I'll go over these phone records again while you're out."

Kate stands and slips on her coat, her fingers ghosting down the lapels. She sucks in startled breath, the memories hitting hard and fast. His strong fingers smoothing over her shoulders, lingering over imaginary wrinkles, plucking at phantom lint, straining to find any excuse to prolong their all too brief moments of contact. Her eyes slip shut for a moment, his face swimming across the inky expanse of her mind's eye.

"You okay, Beckett?"

She turns and finds concerned eyes trained on her. The wrong eyes. The blue too light, too clear.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She pastes on a weak smile, wills herself to sound less desolate. "Just need to get some coffee." Quickly, before the mask falls, she yanks open her desk drawer and scoops up her phone, sliding it into her pocket without checking for messages. She knows there won't be any. "I'll see you in a bit."

The elevator is blessedly empty on the ride down to the parking garage and she slumps back against the wall, allows the sadness to creep. Lets herself get lost in the moments between the sliding of the doors.

* * *

"_I want to take you out." _

_His words rumble against the ear pressed to his chest, her head rising and falling with the rhythmic expansion and contraction of his lungs. Kate curls her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and closes her eyes against the too bright morning sun. _

"_On a date," he clarifies when she fails to respond. "You know, flowers, candles, obscenely overpriced wine and portion sizes that wouldn't satisfy a toddler. You in a stunning - and hopefully almost indecently short - dress, me in a -"_

"_I got it, Castle," she croaks, her throat dry and raspy with sleep. His hand is heavy on her head, the warm weight holding her subconscious hostage as she struggles to push through to awareness. Kate twists her body, her breasts slipping over the curve of his ribs as she stretches. "Why?"_

"_Why what?"_

"_Why do you want to take me on a date?"_

"_Why wouldn't I want to?" _

"_Dating is what you do before, it's how you get to know someone. We already know each other. We're together. So why go on a date?"_

_He looks down at her, genuine confusion and just a hint of hurt painted across his face. "You don't want to go to dinner with me?"_

"_We have dinner all the time, Castle."_

"_Remy's and the Italian place down the block don't count. I want to take you on a proper date." He rolls them over, pins her to the bed with his hips and a smoldering stare. "I want to spend an hour picking a tie. I want to feel the butterflies in my stomach as I wait for you to answer your door. Take you to a nice restaurant, watch the way the candles flicker across your face while you laugh at my jokes." She rolls her eyes at him and he dips his head, nips at her neck, pulling a ragged gasp from her lungs. "We both know you think I'm funny, Beckett."_

"_You have your moments."_

"_And I will have a lot of them on this date. Give you the Castle charm full court press and -"_

"_You really can't pull off sports metaphors."_

"_Hush," he admonishes her, dropping his mouth to her shoulder, lips and tongue gliding over her skin. "I'm telling a story here." Kate bites back a moan and runs her hands down his back when he rolls his hips against her; she can feel him, hard and hot, through two layers of fabric and she really needs him to stop talking. _

"_I'll wine and dine you; have you eating out of my palm before dessert." His body bows away from her, spine a convex arch as he drags his open mouth across her chest, licking and nipping at her skin. "Then I'll take you home and see you safely to your door, a perfect gentleman."_

_Her scoff melts into a groan when he tugs her nipple into his mouth, his tongue sliding hot and wet over her. "You don't think I can be a gentleman, Beckett?" His hands bracelet her wrists, fingers curling easily around delicate bones, pulling her arms up over her head. Her body arches underneath his, breasts straining against the hard press of his chest. _

"_You expected me to crowd you up against the door?" His lips graze hers as he speaks, his words pouring into her open mouth, flooding her body with a molten desire that pushes up through her chest and coats her throat, the desperate need for him choking her. "Press my body into yours so you could feel just what you do to me?" He twitches his hips and she moans, her leg rising to slither over his waist, pulling him closer. "How much I want you, need you?"_

_Castle shifts above her, transferring both her wrists to his left hand. Slowly, he drags the fingers of his right hand down her arm, the tips barely skimming over her skin. His head dips when he reaches her breast, his voice, rough and low against her ear, sending shivers dancing down her spine. _

"_I think your way might be better, actually," he whispers, his hand sweeping along the side of her breast, thumb and forefinger twirling around her nipple. "Let me take you out, Kate. Take you to a nice, quiet dinner and then bring you home and make you moan." _

"_Okay," she concedes, her voice strained and jumping as his lips skate down her throat. "Okay, Castle, you can take me on a date."_

_His head pops up and the delight shining in his eyes tugs on the corners of her mouth, pulling her lips into an involuntary curve. _

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah," she sighs, slightly annoyed with herself for giving in to him so easily. "But nothing too fancy. And you absolutely cannot rent a car." She watches his face as he stares down at her, her words smothering the joyful fire burning in his eyes. Her chest tightens but the words don't cease, her brain ignoring the frantic pleas from her heart to stop hurting him. "Or buy me a dress. Or bring flowers. Or -"_

_Her list is cut off as his lips slam into hers, tongue heavy and hot against her lips. "I'm going to ignore all of that," he pants, breaking away to look into her eyes again. There is an unmistakable challenge in his gaze, a heavy layer of defiance jacketing his words. "I'm going to ignore all of that, Beckett, and focus on the fact that you said yes." _

_His fingers tighten around her wrist as he pushes up over her, his right hand slipping over the rippling muscles of her abdomen, fingers dipping under the waistband of her underwear. Her hips pitch violently off the bed and she growls when laughter rumbles low in his chest. _

"_Plus," he mutters, his lips glancing off hers on the way to her neck, his fingers curling teasingly against her, "I'm fairly certain I have much more fun and interesting ways to wear you down now."_

* * *

Kate pushes through door, the metal cold against her fingertips, the refrigerated air stale in her nose. She spots Lanie on the far side of the room, bent over a microscope, and makes her way over, eyes averted from the sheet covered body on the middle table.

"Hey, Lanie," she offers, injecting a false lilt to her voice. "Ryan said you had something for us?"

Lanie sits up and spins on the stool, appraising eyes scanning Kate from head to toe. "You look like hell."

"You found something?"

"Yeah," she snaps off her gloves and spins on the stool again, grabbing a file from the table. "DNA came back on the skin from under the nails. No matches yet but the lab is still checking. The tests also came back on the fibers I pulled out of her hair. They're a match for three possible brands of industrial carpeting." Lanie pulls a piece of paper from the file and hands it to Kate. "All the relevant information is there."

"Thanks, Lanie. I'll get this back to the guys. Call if you find anything else." Kate moves to leave, making an effort to keep her back straight, her head up; channels all her energy into the job, into being a detective rather than a woman with a broken heart.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

She stops, her hand resting on the cool metal door.

"No."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Lanie."

"Bullshit," her friend scoffs. Kate turns to face her, takes in the crossed arms and narrowed eyes and steels herself for what's coming. Anger is better than pity, though, so she'll take it. "That's bullshit and you know it, Kate. The two of you are going to drive us all into early graves with this crap."

"I have to get back to the precinct."

"No, you need to listen. You can go back to pretending you're fine after you leave but for the next two minutes you're going to listen to me."

Kate stares at her mutely but steps away from the door, a tacit acceptance.

"You're an idiot," Lanie launches, the kid gloves obviously having been discarded. "You both are. One fight and you quit? One fight is enough to-"

"It was more than just one fight," Kate interjects, an edge to her voice.

"Fine, it was more than one fight. I don't care. It could be fifty or a hundred and you'd both still be idiots. Couples fight. Especially the two of you. Hell, Kate, conflict is the entire basis of your relationship. Well," Lanie pauses, a sly grin slipping across her lips, "conflict and massive amounts of sexual tension. But that doesn't make you special. It doesn't make you immune to the same crap the rest of us deal with."

Lanie moves around the table and pulls on a fresh pair of gloves, plucking another vial from a rack and brandishing it at Kate as she continues. "The difference is that you two would rather be idiots and cling to your stupid pride than actually put aside the loaded subtext and talk to each other like adults."

"Are you done?"

"Almost." Lanie puts down the vial and steps back around the counter, her fisted hands propped on her hips. "That man loves you, Kate. And you love him." Kate opens her mouth to respond but Lanie cuts her off, waving an agitated hand through the air in between them. "Save the denial because we both know you'd be lying through your pretty little teeth. What the two of you have is -"

Her rant is cut off by the gentle swoosh of the swinging bay doors.

"Hey, Lanie. Have you seen Alexis? I thought she was supposed to be -"

Castle stops when he sees her, his mouth slack. She can feel his eyes roaming her body, taking her in. Heat creeps across her skin in the wake of his gaze and she takes a step forward, her body's instinct to be near him taking over. He flinches on her second step and she stops, heart in her throat. No, she reminds herself. Not now.

Not anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

The air is thick between them, palpable tension spanning the four feet that separate their bodies. She sees his hands fisted tightly against his thighs and her throat clogs with repressed emotions, all the things she wants to say but can't. Can't because they're not _them_ anymore and it's not her place to try to ease his discomfort, soothe his pain.

Not that she was very good at that even when it _was_ her place.

Kate loses track of the seconds as they tick past, isn't sure how long they stand there simply staring at one another. The papers she's holding crinkle and warp in the tight grip of her fingers as she struggles to hold herself in check, brain working feverishly to stop her hands from reaching out to him. Her eyes trace over his face, searching; he's put together, hair perfectly sculpted, cheeks pink and free of stubble. He looks like himself and she hates him a little for that.

"Alexis isn't here. She left early to make it to a study group." Lanie's voice startles them both, jerks them unceremoniously back to reality.

Castle's head swivels toward Lanie but his eyes never leave Kate. "Oh. I guess we got our wires crossed then."

Kate swallows the scoff that forms in her throat. Crossed wires seem to be the recurring theme of her adult life. Royce, Will, Josh. Castle. Not a uninterrupted circuit to be found.

"Did you have anything else for me, Dr. Parrish?" Kate cuts her eyes to Lanie, silently asking her to let them go, to not force them to do this in front of her.

"You have a case?" The shadow of hurt in his tone pulls her gaze back to him. His eyes flicker with questions and accusation and all she can do is nod and look away, her words trapped under the hard knot of guilty pain sinking through her chest.

"Anything else?" Lanie looks at her with pursed lips and raised eyebrow but she shakes her head and Kate breathes a little more easily. "Okay. Call if something else comes up. Thanks." Without looking at Castle, she pushes through the door and moves toward the elevator, her brisk pace fueled by the need to put as much distance between them as she can.

Kate tries calm herself as she waits for the ancient elevator to reach the basement, hitting the call button again and again, desperate to speed her salvation. She hadn't been prepared for the flood of aching longing brought on by his sudden reappearance. She'd known that it would be painful to see him again. Had hoped it would be - needed it to be - on her terms, under carefully controlled conditions, not surrounded by dead bodies and a disapproving medical examiner.

The chime of the arriving elevator is accompanied by the gentle swoosh of the bay door behind her, the light squeak of rubber on linoleum. Kate sighs and steps into the cart, steels herself for what is certain to be the most painfully awkward elevator ride of her life. Castle scoots through the closing doors and stands with his right shoulder pressed to the opposite wall, eyes fixed straight ahead.

She should have taken the damn stairs.

"You didn't call."

Her heart spasms as the low note of betrayal in his voice broadsides her, sends her careening off her already shaky axis. She wishes she had. Called him. Wishes she had stopped him from leaving, had been able to fully give him her heart. Had been strong enough to accept his.

"I wasn't -" She falters, her eyes crawling across the brushed metal doors, trying to read him through the wavy distortion of his reflection. "I wasn't sure I should."

"I'm still your partner."

She can't stop the derisive scoff this time. Partner. She'd never wanted or needed a partner. Not until him. And now she's not even sure what the word means anymore. She'd thought they were partners. Thought they'd support each other through anything, everything. But she realizes now that she was wrong. Nothing is unconditional, not even them.

"No, you're not. You left."

"That has nothing to do with this."

"Bullshit." She turns to face him, anger burning in her fractured heart. It feels good, the blazing heat pouring through her chest, cauterizing wounds, fueling itself with her guilt and pain. He doesn't get to do this. Doesn't get to leave and then pretend they can just carry on like normal. "You don't get to pick and choose what aspects of my life you want to be a part of. You walked away, Castle. You're done so, please, just be _done_."

"No."

"What?"

"No." He turns to look at her, a corresponding flame flickering on his face. "I _am_ your partner, Beckett. I help. I make a difference, whether you want to admit it or not. And I'm not going to give that up just because you couldn't -" The elevator chimes as he stops abruptly, mouth a thin slash.

With a jerk, the doors split open and cool air from the parking garage swirls around them. Kate stares at him for a moment before stepping out of the elevator, a ragged breath hanging in her lungs. She knows he's right. Knows that what she does - what they do - means just as much to him. Sighing, she turns to face him, shoulders rolling forward against the wind and the cold anger in his face. She may not be able to give him anything else but she can at least give him this.

"Okay. You're right. You're part of the team." She starts toward her cruiser, fishing her keys out of her pocket as she moves. Reaching the door, she turns back and sees him still in the same spot, watching her with curious eyes. "Get in, Castle."

* * *

_She can't help but stare at him when he comes out of the bathroom, her half-tied shoelace hanging limp in her hand. He catches her watching and grins, gives his towel covered hips a suggestive shake. _

"_Like what you see?" _

_Cheeks burning, she rolls her eyes at him and turns her attention back to her shoe, yanking the knotted lace a little harder than necessary. _

"_Where're you going?" _

"_Home. I have to get ready."_

"_Okay," he scrubs a second towel roughly over his head before tossing it on the counter and moving across the room toward his closet. She smiles at the way his hair sticks up, tiny wet spikes scattered across the top of his head. "Give me ten minutes and I'll go with you."_

"_I -" She stumbles, fingers fiddling with the loose edge of a pillow case. "I think we should go separately, actually." _

"_Why?" His hand rests on the knot at his hip, fingers curled tightly into the terrycloth. Kate sighs and pushes up off the bed, drags a hand through her hair. _

"_Because it will look suspicious if we show up together."_

"_Suspicious? Suspicious of what, exactly." _

"_Castle, the last they knew, I was pissed at you and said you were off the team. We can't just show up there together tonight. Not without having to explain everything."_

"_I thought that was the point, though. To clear the air." _

"_To clear their air, not ours."_

_He stares at her, his jaw tense and flexing, eyes tracing over her face. She wants to turn away from the examination, walk out of the room and hide from his too knowing gaze. After long moment, he takes a step toward her, the hand on his hip going slack. _

"_You don't want them to know about us." _

"_I didn't say that."_

"_You didn't have to." _

_Yanking the towel from around his waist, he tosses it on the bed and stalks back to the closet, throwing the doors wide. Kate can't help but let her gaze wander, sliding down the taut plane of his back, over the curve of his ass. Her body reacts to him against her will, desire and want churning in her stomach. It pulls her forward, moves her into his orbit with outstretched fingers. He flinches when she sweeps her hands over his sides, her lips skimming along the hard edge of his shoulder blade. _

"_It's not that I don't want them to know. I do. Just -" her arms twist around his waist, hands moving up to press into his chest- "not yet. I don't want this to be about us. That's not going to make anything easier." _

_He sighs deeply but doesn't respond, his body tense under her hands, arms hanging limply at his sides. Kate swallows down her own sigh and drops her head, lets her forehead rest against his back as she continues, her words spoken softly against his skin. "This isn't normal yet, Castle. I'm not used to it. I need more time." His hands come up to cover hers, warm and reassuring. She draws on the feeling, lets it loosen her tongue. "I want to get to know us without an audience. I want just a little more time in the bubble." _

_His fingers twine through hers and he tugs, pulling her more firmly against his back. She lifts her head and brushes a kiss across the nape of his neck, her elbows pressing into his ribs. "Okay," he says softly, tugging one of her hands up and pressing a hot kiss to the backs her fingers. "Don't think this means that I'm not going to shamelessly flirt with you, though." _

_Kate pulls her hands from his grasp and slides around him, lets him pin her between his naked body and his dresser. "Of course not." She pushes up on her toes and twitches her hips against him, laughing as he growls against her cheek. "We're trying to avoid suspicion not," she bites down on his earlobe, rolls her tongue across the fleshy edge, "arouse it."_

* * *

The ride back to the precinct is less awkward than she expected. Castle spends most of the relatively short trip with his nose buried in the case file, conversation limited to questions of clarification and simple observations. She's aware that he's faking it - the file isn't long and his speed reading ability is well known - but she let him carry on, lets him pretend that he hasn't read the entire thing five times over. Whether he's doing it to give himself time to get comfortable or her, she doesn't know but she finds herself grateful for it all the same.

The mood shifts when she throws the car in park and they head toward the elevator, their steps falling into sync without effort. He looks over at her as they wait, face painted with worry.

"Do they know?" It's a low whisper, pained and tentative.

Kate closes her eyes and pushes back the wellspring of emotions threatening to erupt inside her chest. He sounds like a little boy, terrified that his friends aren't going to like him anymore and it breaks her heart to know that she's the one that did this to him. Shaking her head, she steps into the elevator and he follows, fingers reaching automatically for the control panel.

"They never knew we were together, Castle, so there was no point in them knowing we -" She trails off, unable to say the words.

She catches his shrug out of the corner of his eye. "I just didn't want things to be awkward."

He jumps when the laugh comes flying out of her mouth, bouncing harshly around the tiny space. He stares at her as she continues to giggle, her lungs spasming against her ribs, tears welling in her eyes. After a moment, he cracks a smile, his lips tugging up to let an amused chortle slip out.

"Yeah, okay. That was stupid."

She turns to look at him and the laughter dies in her throat. He's staring at her with eyes so full of love and adoration that it's like a physical blow, knocking her sharply back into reality. Quickly, she steps away from him and turns her body back toward the door, chest tight with emotion.

Stupid.


	4. Chapter 4

Bonus points if you spot the X-Files reference.

* * *

She watches Castle through the break room window as she makes herself a cup of coffee, can't stop the smile that blooms across her lips. He's perched on the edge of Ryan's desk, hands and face animated with a certain to be embellished tale, and it feels so much like it used to that she wants to laugh at the absolute absurdity of it all. Because it's so very much _not_ like it used to be.

There's an undercurrent of awkwardness in their interactions. It pushes on her body, weighs her down. Reminds her over and over that no matter how well they may fake it at the precinct, their relationship is damaged. Broken. The smile drops off her lips and she dips her head, reality crashing down around her shoulders yet again.

Six weeks. Forty two days spent pretending that her heart isn't shattered, that it doesn't hurt to have him at her side - close but never close enough - day after day. Her armor is pierced and cracking, splitting apart at the seams. The effort it takes to piece herself back together every morning, to become Detective Beckett, has become almost more than she can bear. Something has to break. Soon. And she's terrified that it's going to be _her_.

"Daydreaming again, Detective? Better not let Gates catch you."

The low voice, rich and smooth and full of Texas, startles her, sends the forgotten spoon clanking against the ceramic rim of her mug. Setting her shoulders, Kate turns and faces the recent addition to their squad, Detective Mark Newsom. Newsom, his slender frame propped up against the doorjamb, gives her a sloe gin grin, bright and sweet, and she feels her own lips tug up in response to his effortless charm.

"You gonna turn me in, Newsom? Not a great way to endear yourself to a new squad."

"I wouldn't dare." He pushes off the door frame and saunters toward her, eyes twinkling merrily. Kate catches a whiff of his too strong cologne as he reaches around her for a mug of his own, his arm brushing deliberately across her shoulder. "I'm still hoping you'll take pity on me and save me from the special brand of hell that is being partnered with Johnson."

She laughs lightly and takes a subtle slide to the right, distancing herself. "He's not that bad."

"The man smells like bacon twenty-four hours a day, Beckett."

"I'm not going to ask how you know that."

"Probably best that way." He turns to face her and she feels his gaze sweep slowly over her body, warm and assessing. Holding her mug in one hand, Kate crosses her arms and squares her shoulders, closes herself off. He picks up on her signal with a slight nod, eyes cooling in an instant. Leaning back against the counter, he shifts out of her personal space. "Help me, Detective Beckett. You're my only hope."

"Sorry but I've already got a sci-fi geek on my team and I'm pretty sure one is my limit. More than, actually. "

Newsom chuckles, his green eyes crinkling as he shrugs his shoulders. "Well, you can't blame me for trying." He grins at her again, crooked and friendly, and moves toward the door, mug raised in a salute. "Let me know if you change your mind, though. I've gotta get away from that man before he completely ruins my love of pork."

Kate watches him go, mug cradled to her chest. He looks back at her as the rounds the corner and she gives him a tight smile before turning away, eyes slipping shut. A wave of guilt crests in her chest and she sighs, running a hand roughly through her hair. Ridiculous. Draining the rest of her rapidly cooling coffee, she tries to shake it off, pull herself back to the present.

Castle falls in step with her as she exits the break room, his voice tight when he speaks. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay. Talk."

"Without an audience." He throws a sharp nod at Ryan and Esposito who immediately launch into a very loud, very fake conversation.

"Castle, I have work to do."

"Beckett." She stops short when she feels his fingers close around her wrist, her breath catching hard in her lungs. It's the first time he's touched her since they broke up and her body instantly reacts to him, heart hammering wildly against her ribs. Kate whips her head to look at him, eyes flicking down to his hand and back to his face. His fingers tighten around her wrist for a moment and then they're gone, her skin left burning. "Please."

Wordlessly, she turns and heads for the stairwell, swiping a folder off her desk for effect as she goes.

Her heels clatter loudly on the concrete steps, the sharp report echoing inside the enclosed stairwell. She can hear Castle shuffling behind her, his booted feet hitting the steps heavily. They move in silence and Kate uses the time to prepare herself, shore up her defenses. She stops on a landing three floors down and turns to face him, brow raised.

He stands two steps above her, staring down at the top of her head, mute. His face is closed, lips pressed into a tight grimace but his eyes. _Oh_. His eyes are shining with something she can't quite identify but whatever it is scares the hell out of her.

This is going to hurt.

* * *

_They're curled together on her couch, her legs a bridge across the valley of his lap. His fingers twirl through her hair over and over, relaxing. Hypnotizing. She's warm and content, her body sinking into him, head resting heavily on his shoulder. Castle brushes his thumb along her neck, swirls a tight circle on the sensitive skin behind her ear and Kate hums low in her chest, nearly purring at the sensation. _

"_Mmm, that's nice." The words are honey in her throat, slow and thick. His laughter rumbles under her ear and she swats at him half heartedly, fingers lazily swiping across his chest. "Don't laugh at me."_

_His lips are soft and light against her temple; his fingers tangling in her hair as his other hand skims slowly up and down her thigh, fingers curling warmly against her bare skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."_

_She's still getting use to the feeling of being near him, touching him. Still marvels at the the way she's able to lose herself in it. The way her body slots almost perfectly into his. How his hands feel running across her skin, the smooth palms and calloused fingers soothing, calming. The serenity of their silences, long and comforting, words becoming superfluous. She shifts her body down, nestles more firmly into the cove of his embrace and sighs, happiness flowing warm in her veins._

"_I have a little something for you," he whispers, breath rustling across her crown. _

"_I'd say it's more than a little something, Castle." She wiggles her hips, breasts brushing against his ribs. _

"_Okay, that's going in the next book." His lips dance down her cheek and she tilts her face into him, lets his stubble scrape over her lips. "You know how I love it when you talk dirty." _

_He groans when she nips at his bottom lip, flicks her tongue along the sharp ridge of his teeth. Shifting underneath her, he twists around and presses her into the couch with his upper body as he takes her mouth, tongue slicking across her lips, curling around her own. She rolls under him, smiling into his mouth when his hips buck. Need, hot and heavy, unfurls low in her stomach and her chest fills with delight at the way they're able to push each other to the edge with such ease. _

"_Here." He breathes into her mouth, fingers closing tightly around her own. She feels something bite into her palm, rigid and sharp, and sucks in a deep breath, body going still. A cold fist clenches in her chest, icy tendrils of panic and fear creeping down her spine. _

"_What's this?"_

_He grins at her, soft and amused. "It's a key. To the loft."_

_The key is oddly cool in her hand despite the suddenly sweaty heat of her palm. She pushes on his shoulder and he rolls to the side but the weight remains on her chest, heavy and oppressive. Kate closes her eyes and pulls in a shaky breath, tries to calm her racing heart. She focuses on clearing her mind. Castle's hand rests on her hip, a gentle pressure that she concentrates on. Syncs her breathing with the slow sweep of his thumb across her side. Inhaling fresh clean air, exhaling the anxious worry. _

_Just a key. She adopts the mantra, repeats it slowly in her mind. Let's the words flow together and wash over her, a clear stream of simple truth. Just a key. Not a reason to panic or run. Her heart rate slows as she breathes, _

_Kate opens her eyes to find Castle staring down at her, shadows of hurt playing across his face. She reaches out a slightly trembling hand and runs her fingers over his forehead, smooths the pads over the deep furrow between his eyes. _

_She wants to speak, assure him that she wants this, him. That she's just startled and unprepared but she's in this with him. But the words are stuck in her chest, lodged firmly behind her battered heart. Castle pushes out a sigh and drops his head, nose brushing along her cheek._

"_It's a key, Kate." His voice is low and strong, calm. "I'm not asking you to move in or suggesting we start picking out china patterns. It's just a key." _

"_Just a key," she repeats, her voice thin and reedy. "I know."_

"_You don't have to use it," he whispers and she closes her eyes, the current of his breath skirting over her cheek. She feels the iceberg in her chest start to crack, little pieces breaking off and floating away, melting under the warm press of his body against hers. "Just keep it, Kate. I want you to have it."_

_Her fingers curl around his bicep, the key pressed hard between her palm and his arm as she tugs him back down. He comes willingly and she wraps her arms around his broad shoulders, cradles his body tightly to her chest. The words are still hanging there, crowded behind the wet knot of apprehension she can't manage to untangle, so she uses her body. Tries to tell him with the press of her lips and the glide of her hands. Closes her eyes and hopes he understands._

* * *

Kate moves back as he takes the final two steps down to the landing. Distance. She has to maintain the carefully measured distance they've been tacitly observing for six weeks. Never any closer than they absolutely have to be. It's the only way she can control her rebellious hands, her palms constantly itching with the need to reach out and touch some part of him. Any part of him. She folds her arms, folder hugged between her forearm and chest, and wraps her fingers tightly around her own biceps, nails biting into her skin.

"If you have something to say -"

"I can't do this anymore."

It's a fist to the solar plexus. Her body bows around the pain, spine curving, shoulders rolling forward to protect herself from the next blow. Blood rushes in her ears, a sick feeling of deja vu swirling in her head. This can't be happening. Not again.

"What?"

He takes a step forward and she wants to move away but her legs won't respond, feet rooted to the spot. "It's too hard, Kate." Her heart stutters to a stop. Starts. Stops again. He never calls her Kate anymore. _Shit._ "I love you. I love you and I can't sit around and watch you move on." She shakes her head, hair whispering across collar, but he keeps talking, the dam broken. "I can't watch you pretend like we never happened. It hurts too damn much. I thought the work would be enough. That the satisfaction I get from solving a case would make up for the loss but it doesn't. It can't."

Castle takes another step toward her and she can feel the heat of his body pushing up against her skin. She burns with it; the desire to lean in and press the length of herself against him, show him what satisfaction feels like, sparking like flint against her heart.

"I know that what we had -" He stops. Swallows. She watches his throat bob as he works for the words. Waits for the knockdown punch. "I know it didn't mean the same to you but -"

The folder flutters to the ground as she throws herself at him, puts an end to his blasphemy with the slide of her tongue. Her hands scrabble against his back, nails scraping hard across the sharp line of his shoulder blade. He kisses her furiously, perfectly. He yanks her closer with an arm around her waist, the other hand tangling in her hair, fisting, directing the twisting curve of her neck. A desperate moan echoes around them and she has no idea whether it's hers or his but it's wicked sound, hungry and full of need and it makes her want to burrow inside of him, wrap herself up in the furor of his love.

A slamming door - above or below, she doesn't know, can't tell - wrenches her back to reality and she breaks away from him, her chest heaving. He stares at her with glassy eyes and swollen lips, awe etched across his face. She presses her fingers to her buzzing lips and he sways, body listing heavily toward her.

"Kate."

"I think you're right," she whispers, the words broken glass in her mouth, shredding her tongue. "Maybe it's best that you go."

He stares at her for a long moment before nodding. Her eyes close as he steps around her, the scent of his cologne drifting gently in his wake. She listens. Waits until his footsteps fade, until the heavy metal door clatters to a close to open her eyes, bend over and gather her scattered papers.

She couldn't watch this time.


	5. Chapter 5

Kate stays at the precinct well into the night. With no active cases to distract her, she buries herself in paperwork, filling out form after form until her hand starts to cramp, vision going blurry. It's only when the night janitor pushes his squeaky cart across the bullpen that she stops and looks at the clock. Half past eleven. She tries to convince herself that she needs to stay, needs to finish what she's working on, but she's already moved on from her own paperwork and is halfway through Esposito's. She can't put it off any longer.

Tossing her pen on the desk, she shoves back with a sigh and stretches her arms up over her head. The night janitor, a spry old man named Fred, whistles cheerily as he moves around the vacant desks emptying waste baskets. Kate stands as he nears her desk, collects her coat and bag.

"Got a live one, Detective Beckett?" Fred grins at her, his wrinkled face soft and warm, and she digs down deep, pulls her lips into a matching curve for the kindly old man. He's been cracking the same joke for as long as she's been on the force, a rasping chuckle rattling around in his thin chest every time.

"Not tonight, Fred. Just some paperwork."

"Ah, so that's why Mr. Castle isn't up here making a mess, tossing his little bits of confetti all over my floor."

Kate huffs out a strained laugh and shrugs into her jacket. Castle and Fred had been thick as thieves since the first time Castle heard the wizened little man make his joke about live ones. He'd tossed his head back and clapped his hands loudly, his laughter too loud and bright for the wee hours of the morning. _Oh, I like you, Fred_. The two men had then spent four years trying to outdo each other with groan worthy jokes and ridiculous puns, Castle taking delight in playfully goading the older man with scattered piles of shredded paper. Her chest pulls at the memories, the joyful look on Castle's face clear in her mind. A look she hasn't seen in far too long.

"Yeah, you know I can't let him near the paperwork," she manages, surprising herself with the lightness of her tone. "It'd just end up in one of those little piles of paper you love so much."

The old man laughs, his bald pate glinting in the dim overhead lights. "Oh, I doubt that. He's far too enamored with you to do something quite _that_ stupid." Kate smiles through the sharp slice of his words, heart thrashing against her ribs in violent protest. "Well, I'd better get back to it. Have a nice night, Detective." With a wink and and wave, Fred shuffles away, the squeak of his cart growing softer as she stands frozen next to her desk, his words echoing in her ears.

_Too enamored with you._

Castle.

Her phone rests heavily against her side and she slips her hand inside her coat and curls her hand around the slender device, turning it over again and again, an electronic worry stone. The harsh chime of the elevator makes her jump, sends her heart skittering. She rips her hand out of her pocket and shoves her fingers through her hair as two laughing uniforms come strolling out of the elevator, oblivious. Pulling in a deep breath, Kate flicks the switch on her desk lamp and walks to the waiting elevator.

She drives home in silence, fists clenched almost painfully around the steering wheel as she replays Castle's words from earlier in the day. The work drowned them out for a few hours but now they're back, running on a constant loop in her mind. _I know it didn't mean the same to you. _She wants to wonder how he could possibly think that but she knows. She knows and she hates herself for it.

Her apartment is a shadowed cave at midnight, the dim light of streetlamps pouring through the open shutters the only illumination. She flicks the light switch next to the front door, bathing herself in too bright amber light, and unclips her badge and gun, stowing them in their usual places in the drawers of the solid oak table in her entryway. The slamming drawer unsettles the items scattered across the table top and her eyes fall to the corner, drawn by the now familiar flash of light bending around metal.

Carefully, she traces the tip of her index finger around the key, the oil from her skin leaving streaks on the hardwood. Six weeks and she can't make herself move it. His key. Her finger runs the track again, circling closer with each lap. She's tried to pick it up and put it away on multiple occasions, berating herself over and over for being so ridiculous. It's just a damn key.

Meaningless.

She jumps when the cold metal teeth rub along the edge of her finger. Pressing the flat of her hand down over the key, Kate curls the fingers of her other hand around the brass knob on drawer in the middle of the table, tugging. Slowly, she drags her hand across the slick surface, the ridges of the key scraping softly along the wood underneath her clammy palm. Her breathing stops as she nears the edge, a heavy veil of panic falling over her head.

No.

Kate slides the drawer shut and pushes the key back to its resting place, moves into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine.

* * *

"_Were you even going to tell me?"_

_She moves to the side as he rushes over the threshold, anger radiating off the taut lines of his body. Gently, she pushes the door shut, waits until she hears the tongue snick into the frame before turning to face him. _

"_Tell you what?"_

"_You know what, Kate. Don't play right now." He's speed walking laps around her coffee table, the tails of his coat flapping against his thighs. _

"_No, Castle, I don't know what. You're going to have to exp-"_

"_You're going back to work." He stops moving as he throws the words at her, a hot and heavy accusation that socks her in the gut, knocks the wind out of her lungs. "You're going back and you didn't even mention it to me."_

"_How -"_

"_Ryan," he fumes, shoving his thick fingers through his hair. "I went to pick Alexis up at the morgue for our lunch date and Ryan was there talking to Lanie. He asked if my return to the precinct was included as part of the deal you struck with Gates or if I was going to have to call the mayor and pull some strings." He starts pacing again, feet thudding loudly against the hardwood floor. "I had to tell him that I didn't know, hadn't talked to you about it yet. Because I haven't."_

"_Castle -"_

"_When were you planning on mentioning this, Beckett? The morning you crawled out of my bed and slipped on a badge? When you needed me to consult? Or was I just going to have to wait until you got shot again?"_

"_Castle, stop." He stops moving, his back turned to her, hands fisted at his sides. Hiis shoulders heave with the force of his respiration, the back of his neck flushed. "I was going to tell you."_

"_When?"_

"_When I was ready." He spins on his heels, mouth open in rebuttal but she halts his words with a raised hand. "Just listen to me for a minute, okay?" He remains mute but nods, mouth pulled into a grimace. "Gates called me last week and asked me to come in to talk to her. I didn't tell you about the meeting because I wasn't sure that I was even going to go. But, I did - "_

"_Obviously."_

"_And she asked me to come back to the force," Kate continues, ignoring his sarcastic interjection. "We spoke at length about it, Castle, and in the end I told her I needed time to think it over. That I'm not sure what I want to do yet. She gave me a week to get back to her with a final decision."_

"_When was the meeting?"_

_Kate swallows and tenses her body, bracing for the outburst she knows is certain to come. "Tuesday."_

"_So three days ago," he states, vow dropping dangerously. "You had a meeting with Gates in which she asked you to come back to work and three days later you still hadn't thought to mention it to me? What the hell, Kate?"_

"_I needed time to think about it, Rick." She takes a step toward him, tries to ignore the way he flinches at her use of his first name. "I needed a few days to work it out inside my head before I came to you with it. I haven't made any decisions yet." His eyes snap to hers, disbelief etched across his face. "I was trying to decide what I actually wanted before I - I wanted to be able to give you a concrete answer when you asked me whether or not I want to go back."_

"_And you don't have one?"_

_Kate shakes her head, hands turned up in supplication. Castle's defensive posture deflates like a balloon and he sinks down onto her couch, head buried in his hands. _

"_I'm sorry."_

"_You don't have to -"_

"_No, I do." He looks up at her, eyes shining. "I'm sorry I got angry. I just assumed that you'd made the decision to go back and - I was hurt. Hurt that you would do something so huge without even considering me." _

"_I should have told you about the meeting." _

"_Yeah, that probably would have been a good idea," he chuckles, mirthlessly. "I - I need to be included in this kind of stuff, Kate. I'm not saying I have to give you permission or anything - I'm not even close to being that stupid or suicidal - but I do need to feel that my opinion matters. That I matter."_

"_It does," she responds, voice weak and hollow with fear. "You do. I just - this is so big, Castle."_

_He smiles at her, thin but real, and reaches out across the expanse of the couch, wraps his fingers around hers. Air floods into her suffocating lungs, clean and fresh, the first full breath she's managed in days._

"_I know it is. And we'll work through it together. And, for the record," he tugs on her hand, draws her gaze up to meet his. The love pouring out of his eyes steals the air right back out of her lungs, leaves her gasping. "I love you and will fully support whatever decision you make."_

"_Thank you," she whispers as he scoots across the couch and gathers her into his arms. Her head lands on his chest and she lets her eyes slip shut, lets the strong and steady thud of his enormous heart lull her into calm. _

* * *

She jerks awake suddenly, head spinning. Sunlight streams through the open blinds and she groans softly, her mouth bitter and full of cotton. Her slacks are twisted around her calves, shirt pulled tight over her curved torso. Pushing herself up off the couch, she stumbles to her bedroom, stripping off the previous day's clothes and heading for the shower.

The scalding water pounds against her neck, loosening her tense muscles, as she leans against the cool tile wall. Her head is as fuzzy as her mouth, the only clear thought Castle. She'd fallen asleep hours before with her phone clutched in her hand, talking herself out of calling him, begging him to come back to the precinct. Because despite the hurt, the sharp stabbing pains of grief she wants him there. Needs him.

Tears prick against the backs of her eyes and, for the first time, she lets them fall. She wraps her arms around herself, holding her naked body tightly as the tears run over her cheeks, hot and fast, and her shoulders shake, deep wracking sobs hiccuping in her chest. She stands under the spray of water, mourning, until the water runs cold and her eyes run dry.

She loves him. Desperately. Completely. And she never said it. Never allowed herself to fall, to surrender to the feelings. Need is a weakness that leaves her vulnerable. Exposed. Control is the currency of her heart and giving it up has never been an option.

But Castle - she's needed him for far longer than she cares to admit and he's never made her feel lesser for it. Just kept showing up, persistent in his love. Until she broke his spirit with her selfishness.

Climbing out of the shower, she slams off the water and dries herself hastily, the need to see him, to make it right, burning brightly in her veins. She's been an idiot. Held her heart just out of his grasp out of fear and a completely wrongheaded notion that she was protecting him. Kate scoffs as she yanks a pair of yoga pants over her thighs. Hiding isn't strength. It's time to step out into the light.

Tugging on a shirt, she goes in search of her phone. She'll call him now, keep calling until he agrees to see her, to talk it out. She won't run to his door in the middle of the night; not this time. Grand gestures and sweeping declarations aren't the answer, never were. They have to talk. Show up. Put in the work.

She finds her phone face down under the couch and fishes it out, swiping her finger across the screen. A pop up alerts her of a missed call from a number she doesn't recognize and an awaiting voicemail. Annoyed at the distraction, she pulls up her voicemail box and types in her password, presses the phone to her ear as a familiar yet foreign voice comes pouring out of the tinny speaker.

_Detective Beckett, this is Paula Haas. I need you to return my call as soon as possible. We need to have a conversation. About Rick. _


	6. Chapter 6

The party is in full swing when she arrives, her tiny silver clutch pressed tightly between her bicep and ribs. She skirts the side of the room while she acclimates, tries to calm the riotous mass of butterflies dancing in her stomach. It doesn't take her long to spot him through the milling guests and roving wait staff.

He's standing on the other side of the room, profile thrown into the sharp relief by the simulated candlelight, the flickering orange glow illuminating his sloping nose and strong chin. Her eyes drift over his body, take in the way the tuxedo clings to him. The starched white shirt stretched over his massive chest, jacket cascading down from his broad shoulders, a heavy cut glass tumbler of scotch clutched tightly in his right hand.

God, she misses his body. The way it feels under her hands and mouth. The comforting weight of him hovering over her, pinning her to the mattress as she breaks apart; his hands wrapped around her ribs, pressing her back together. Waking up enveloped in his warmth, a thick arm twined around her waist, soft lips at the nape of her neck.

He turns in her direction and Kate steps back, pulling the shadows around herself, not ready for him to see her yet. Her skin feels tight and hot and she wants to run. Wants to run before he notices the way her legs are shaking, her entire body flushed and trembling. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, searches for her center. She came here for a reason.

She came here for him.

A tuxedoed waiter passes by and she grabs a flute of champagne from his half empty tray, wraps her fingers tightly around the stem and focuses. She can do this. Paula catches her eye from across the room and nods quickly before turning her attention to another guest. Their conversation had been short but polite and Kate finds herself grateful for the other woman's dogged persistence in all matters Richard Castle.

Kate lets the flow of the crowd push her around the room, carefully avoiding placing herself in his line of sight. She makes small talk and allows herself to enjoy the moment. She gets caught in a discussion about the literary merit of the mystery genre and finds herself defending his work and its place in the greater literary lexicon with a passion she's never voiced for fear of revealing too much. Too much of herself, of her heart. The conversation wanes and she excuses herself with a voice far too steady for the mass of emotions clogging her throat.

The ladies room buzzes with typical event activity, a cacophony of running water and the click of heels on tile. Kate stands in front of a mirror at the end of the row of sinks, freshening lipstick that is unblemished and pushing at strands of hair that are still perfectly in place.

The combination of deep breathing and the bubbles in the champagne have left her hazy and her mind wanders as she stares at herself in the mirror, oblivious to the steady stream of questioning looks being cast in her direction. She thinks about their kiss the day before and her lips burn, her body anxious to fling itself off the cliff and into his waiting arms. All of her carefully managed expectations are gone, her heart beating double time in anticipation of their reunion. The idea that he might reject her, might not want to hear what she has to say, has been pushed away by the flow of adrenaline and alcohol and the longer she stands staring at herself the more confident she becomes.

Now.

She has to go to him now.

Snapping her clutch closed, she whirls away from the sink, the hem of her dress fluttering around her thighs. The silk feels cool and slippery on her overheated skin and she drags her hand over the bodice, the tiny beads sharp against her palm. Hope swelling in her chest, she pushes through the door and back out into the hall, her body buzzing.

Her stride falters, heart skipping erratically, when she sees him at the end of the hallway, his shoulder pressed into the wall, eyes trained on her. Her feet carry her to him, stopping mere inches from his chest. The look on his face is a heartbreaking combination of disbelief and awe and she wants to step into him, use her lips and her hands to affirm her presence, make him believe that she's real.

"You're here."

Her lips curl tentatively. She loves his tendency to state the obvious when he's shocked or surprised. "I am."

The balloon of hope floating in her chest deflates rapidly when he steps back from her, awe slipping into confused anger.

"Why?"

* * *

_The pot on the stove boils over as she stands staring at him, the water hissing ominously as it sizzles on the stovetop. _

"_You told her I would go? Without asking me?"_

"_I told her that I would ask you about it but that I didn't think it would be a problem." He's standing on the other side of the kitchen, bracing himself on the island with flat palms. "I honestly didn't think it would be."_

_Kate turns back to the stove, flipping off the burner and grabbing the pot, sucking a gasp of pain through her teeth as the hot metal burns her palm. She dumps the over cooked pasta into the sink, the pan clattering loudly against the stainless steel. Running water over her quickly reddening palm, she angles her torso back to face him. "Castle, you committed me to something without my permission. That's not - "_

"_I didn't commit you to anything," he interrupts, pushing off the island. He moves over to stand next to her at the sink, his hip pressed hard against the rounded edge of the countertop. "It's three hours at a party, Kate. It's not a big deal." _

"_I just started back at work last week."_

_He sighs, plucking her hand out from underneath the running water. Grabbing a dish towel, Castle gently pats her palm dry, peering closely at the oblong patch of raised skin. "We need to put something on this." She lets him pull her toward the bathroom, unease coiling tightly in her stomach. "The party is almost two months away. You'll have plenty of time to settle back into your groove."_

"_Gates is watching me like a hawk. I can't commit to anything like that right now. I can't afford to get distracted." _

"_Distracted? Kate, it's one night." He pushes down on her shoulders until she sits on the closed lid of the toilet and drops to a crouch in front of her. "All you'll have to do is put on a dress, drink some champagne and make small talk."_

"_As Nikki Heat." She watches him rummage in her medicine cabinet, pushes away the warm feelings of rightness the sight stirs in her chest. "That's the only reason Paula wants me there. So I can impress the bigwigs with my badge and gun." Castle sits down on the edge of her tub, first aid kit clenched tightly in one hand, face unreadable. "I don't want to be on display like that." _

"_This is my job." His hand wraps tightly around her wrist as he dabs ointment onto her palm. She can feel the low thrum of anger in the force of his grip, the way his fingers compress her bones. "I thought you'd be willing to support that."_

"_I am but not as arm candy."_

_Castle drops her hand back in her lap, her palm shining with the greasy salve. The first aid kit clatters against the counter and he sits back to look at her, eyes narrowed. "Arm candy? That's - You seriously think that I would let you be treated like arm candy?"_

"_You can't control the press." _

"_You're right. I can't." He stands swiftly, the air in the tiny room swirling, leaving her skin cold. "Which is why it's fortunate there won't be any press there." He looks back at her from the doorway, his face a mask of dark shadows. "I made sure of that before I even considered asking you about it." He walks out of the room, tossing back over his shoulder, "Since hiding our relationship is more important to you than anything else, apparently." _

_Kate stares after him in shocked silence. She can hear him in the kitchen, the slam of cabinets and clatter of cutlery unbearably loud. The noise slows and stops, silence overtaking the apartment. She sits for a moment longer, eyes closed, breath coming in stuttering gulps. Steeling herself, she stands and puts the first aid kit away then flips off the lights and leaves the bathroom. _

_She finds him at her table, viciously stabbing a fork into a plate of rubbery pasta, knuckles white and shoulders tense. There's a second plate opposite him, a pile of pasta and tomato sauce shivering in the shallow dish. She wants to cry but instead she sits down and gingerly picks up her fork, the burn in the middle of her palm aching. _

"_Call Paula and tell her I'll be there." _

_He doesn't look up from his meal, continues to transfer forkfuls of food from plate to mouth. "Don't do me any favors." _

"_Call her, Castle," she says, fork hovering over her plate, eyes trained on the top of his head. "I'll be there." _

_She almost misses the slight dip of his neck, forehead angling down just a fraction of an inch. They finish their meal in a tense silence, Castle's eyes never lifting from the table. As soon as he's finished eating, he tosses his plate in the sink and gathers his coat and keys, stands awkwardly in the middle of her living room. _

"_I'm gonna head home," he pointlessly exposits, jerking his thumb toward her front door. "I have some writing to catch up on."_

_She wants him to stay, wants a chance to explain herself, her fears and worries, but the words stick in her chest, trapped under the weight of his apparently desperate need to get away from her. She nods instead, pushing herself out of the chair and moving into the kitchen. "I'll see you tomorrow?"_

"_Yeah. Tomorrow." _

_And then he's gone, the soft snick of the closing door echoing in her ears._

* * *

"Paula called me," she explains, her voice soft. "She said you weren't answering her calls and that you never gave her a definitive answer about whether or not I would be here."

"Why did you come?"

She meets his steely gaze and rolls her shoulders back, opening herself up to him. She smiles, lets the full force of her emotions shimmer brightly on the surface for the first time in years.

"Because it's important to you." She takes a step toward him, the pressure on her chest easing a little when he doesn't move away. "Because at one point you wanted me here. With you."

Castle stares down at her, silently searching for the truth. She stares back, unblinking, tries to put it all in on her face for him to read. He's always been so good at seeing through her, picking out the pieces of Kate that she tries so desperately hide with the armor of Beckett. She wills him to do that now, to look into her and see all the things she's wanted to tell him for months.

"Kate," he whispers, swaying toward her, one hand drifting up to hover over her forearm. "I - We need to -"

"Not now," she cuts him off sharply, suddenly aware of the not so subtle glances and murmurs they're attracting from the other guests passing by them. The hallway outside a public restroom is not the place to have this conversation.

He startles, his hand dropping heavily back to his side. "Right. Of course. You don't want to talk about it." He takes two large steps away from her, orienting his body toward the entrance to the ballroom. "I've gotta get back."

Swallowing down the angry rush of fear, she reaches out and grabs his arm, her fingers wrapping tightly around his wrist. He stares down at her hand, his fingers flexing open and closed slowly. "We can't do this here. You're working, Castle." Nodding toward the bustling crowd at the other end of the hallway, she shakes his arm to draw his attention to her face. "I know we need to talk. I _want_," she steps closer to him, dropping her grip down to his hand, "to talk. We just can't do it now."

The air between them feels heavy and electric against her skin and she wants to twist her fingers through his hair, pull his mouth down to hers and make him see. Make him_ feel_ how much she wants this. Wants him.

"Later?" He asks, the hesitance in his tone breaking her heart anew.

"Later," she affirms, squeezing his hand before loosening her grip and sliding away. He catches her fingers with the tips of his, twisting his wrist until they're palm to palm. Castle spreads his fingers and she works hers into the spaces he creates, warmth flowing up her arm and flooding into her chest. She feels the balloon of hope slowly reinflate, pressing her heart up into her throat.

"Stay with me?"

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," she answers honestly, her stomach somersaulting violently at the smile he gives her. He starts to walk and they move back out into the crowd together, hands still clasped tightly between them.

* * *

**AN: **Two chapters left after this. Thanks to everyone for sticking with me on this little experiment. Your reviews and comments are much appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

_He's smiling broadly when she opens the door, a bottle of wine dangling from his left hand. She can't help but grin back when he steps over the threshold and wraps his free arm around her waist, tugging her body up against his chest. Her fingers find their way to his neck as he kisses her, twirling through the soft hair at the base of this skull. _

"_Hi." His voice is soft and sweet, tickling the upturned curve of her lips. _

"_Hi."_

"_I missed you." _

"_You just saw me eight hours ago, Castle." She pushes on his chest and steps back, shaking her head as she tugs the bottle from his fingers and moves toward the kitchen. "That's not enough time to miss anything." _

"_Not true," he rebuts, following her. "Eight hours is plenty of time. Hell, I miss you when you're gone for eight minutes." _

_Her heart does a little flip but she ignores it, rolling her eyes at him instead as she works the cork out of the bottle. "With lines like that, maybe you should switch to romance novels. You'd make a killing." _

"_Ah, but I already do write romance. As you well know." He takes the glass she's offering him, a cheeky glint in his eye. "I've seen your dog eared copy of Heat Wave. The corner of page one hundred and five is about to fall off." _

"_Shut up." _

_Laughing, he moves around the island and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her up against his chest. "How was dinner with your dad?" His lips skim over her temple and she shivers, a sizzling warmth skittering down her spine. _

"_Good."_

"_How'd he take the news? Should I brace myself for an inquiry about my intentions?"_

_She presses her forehead to his chest and takes a deep breath, feeling his body go stiff against her. His arm falls away from her shoulders and she sways on her feet as he steps quickly away from her. She keeps her eyes closed, unwilling to see the hurt and anger on his face. _

"_You didn't tell him."_

_It's not a question. She shakes her head, finally opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. "No."_

"_Why? We agreed that it was time for him to know. It's been three months, Kate." _

"_I know. I - There just wasn't a good time to mention it."_

"_You couldn't find two minutes to say 'Oh, by the way, Dad, I'm dating Castle now.'?"_

"_It's not that simple."_

"_Yes, it is." His wine clatters against the island and he stalks away from her, his body taut with barely restrained fury. "Three months," he repeats, pacing in her entryway. "When are you going to stop acting like this has to still be a secret?" _

"_What they are you talking about?"_

"_No one is allowed to know about us!"_

"_Your mother and Alexis know. And Lanie."_

"_Lanie only knows because she caught us. And my mother and Alexis know because they're my family and they have a right to know that I'm in a relationship with a woman that I love. But what about the rest of our friends? I'm tired of hiding, Kate." _

"_If this gets out at the precinct then Gates won't let you work with us anymore." _

"_That's a bullshit excuse and you know it. Ryan and Esposito wouldn't sell us out to Gates. You know that. Why are you so scared of telling people about us?" _

"_You'll have to forgive me if I don't want to take out ad announcing to the world that I'm -" _

"_I'm not asking you to announce it to the world!" He stops pacing and spins to face her, his face blazing. "I just want to be able to tell the people that matter." He shoves a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "I want you to be in this. I want to stop feeling like you've still got that one foot out the fucking door."_

_The silence is deafening. Her apartment breathes around them, the dim white noise of appliances and steady hum of traffic amplified in the vacuum of their muted voices._

"_Beckett," she cringes internally at the slice of her surname, the acid dripping from the sharp edges of the consonants, "I can't be the only one in this. I can't hold this relationship together by myself. Not anymore."_

"_You knew who I was when we started this, Castle." She tries to keep her voice calm and even. "You can't expect me to change just because we're sleeping together."_

"_Sleeping together? Is that -" A fresh wave of anger rolls across his face, hard and fast, his eyes slipping shut in the wake of it. He takes a step closer to her and releases a slow, shaky breath. "Is that what this is to you? Us sleeping together?"_

_She can't speak. Can't find the words to tell him that it's not; that it's so much more than that. It's everything. Everything she'd hoped it be. Everything she never knew she wanted until him._

_She's been struggling to find the words for months, to tell him how much she loves and adores him, how happy he makes her. How she feels like a whole person when she's with him. How he fills the empty places inside her chest with his love and his smiles._

_Her traitorous body won't allow the words to come. Her throat is thick and closed, her lungs spasming against her ribs. The smothering panic sets in, the way it always does in these moments. The moments when her heart almost succeeds in making itself heard, in overriding her head._

_She blinks at him, her eyes wide and dry. She wants to reach out. Wants to touch him and show him how she feels. But that's what led them to this place. The place where he realizes just how damaged she actually is and decides he can't take it anymore. Somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice sings a song of vindication, crowing out lyrics about the inevitability of this moment with a chorus of harmonizing I told you sos._

_Castle sighs, his shoulders sagging as the fight drains out of him. She watches the shutters go up behind his eyes, watches him give up._

_On her._

_On them._

"_Okay, Kate. Okay."_

_He grabs his jacket from her coat rack, thrusts his hands deep into the pockets. She hears the dull jingle of metal and feels herself sway a little on the spot. His hand comes free of the fabric, a tangle lump of keys clutched tightly in his fingers. Without looking at her, Castle isolates the key to her door and slides it from the ring, places it gently on the solid oak table. She wonders briefly how the table manages to remain standing under the weight of his actions._

_His head lifts and he looks at her, eyes shining with unshed tears._

"_You know where to find me."_

_Slowly, his hope for her to stop him cushioning his every movement, he turns and walks out the door. She watches him go, her heart railing against her ribs, feet rooted to the spot. The door closes soundly and she lets her eyes slip closed, the image of his retreating back burning bright in her mind. _


	8. Chapter 8

He holds her hand on the ride back to her apartment, his palm sweaty and warm against hers. She wants to lean into him, to let his body bear the weight of her heart, but she holds herself apart, letting the press of their palms and the whisper of his slacks against her thigh be enough for now. The conversation they need to have is long overdue and though she wants him badly she knows that she has explanations and amends to make before they can even think about anything else.

The cab rolls away, tail lights flickering, as she leads him into her building. She'd had to drop his hand to fish her keys out of her purse and she can feel him standing close behind her, the heat from his chest pushing against her back. It makes her brave, makes her want to turn around and split herself open for him right there on the sidewalk. Exorcise the pain and anger under the watery light of the street lamps so they can go upstairs and fall into the shadows of her bed, finally on the same page.

Castle stays close to her on the short trip to her door, never letting more than a few feet separate their bodies as they navigate the hallways and elevator, the tips of his fingers brushing lightly over the small of her back at entirely random intervals. She lets them into her apartment and watches him look around, scouting for differences. He won't find any, she knows, but she gives him the time he needs to look and reassure himself. A sharp intake of air catches her attention and she turns around halfway to the kitchen and finds him still standing in her entryway, eyes fixed on the side table.

Oh.

He reaches out and runs his finger along the beveled edge of the wood and then looks up at her, his face a question mark, and she's not sure if the shine she sees in his eyes is real or just a trick of the light. Kate gives him a small smile, weak but real, and pulls him into the apartment with a wave of her hand.

"Wine?"

She realizes it at the same moment he does, sees the shadow of memory roll through his eyes. Shaking his head, he steps into the kitchen and leans against the island, hands shoved hastily into his pockets, hair flopping loosely over his forehead. He looks like a teenage boy wearing his dad's tux for prom and she wants so badly to go to him. To brush the hair from his forehead and take him in her arms, kiss the sad exhaustion from his face.

"How about coffee instead?" He suggests and Kate nods, turning to pull down two mugs.

Castle pushes off the island and moves to her coffee maker, automatically starting the process of brewing a pot. It's a routine they perfected over the months they were together; she prepares their cups with cream and sugar while he handles the coffee. Her chest clenches at the familiarity of it, the memories hitting her hard and fast. How he used to laugh at her insistence that, even though they used the same materials, his coffee always tasted better; the way they'd stand together in her kitchen, murmuring to each other quietly, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they waited for the pot to finish. Sighing, Kate pushes away the memories and turns back from the refrigerator, the carton of cream grasped tightly in her hand, finds him watching her with unmasked curiosity.

"This feels -"

"Weird?" She offers, an awkward laugh hanging in her throat.

"Right," he finishes, a sad smile rolling across his lips. Her skin prickles and she sways, her equilibrium compromised by the rush of love that surges through her veins.

"Castle-" she starts, her tongue thick and heavy. She stalls when he reaches out and wraps his fingers around her wrist, thumb brushing lightly over the base of her palm.

"Coffee first, okay?"

Kate nods, watching as he slowly drags his fingers off her skin, the tips hesitating for just a second before breaking the contact completely. She turns back to the cups, sucking in a shaky breath that she hopes he can't hear or at least has the compassion to ignore. The coffee finishes and she hands him the mugs, watching as he pours them both a serving with a steady hand. Circling the island, she kicks off her shoes and sinks down onto the tall barstool, her mug clasped tightly in both hands. Castle tugs off his jacket and slips the knot on his bowtie before joining her, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt as he sits.

She stares at the side of his face for a moment, watching his jaw work as he thinks. She knows he's taking his time, trying to get the words right, because this is important but she really needs him to pull the trigger already. He turns to look at her when she murmurs his name, his expression guarded.

"Why did you come tonight, Kate?"

"I told you. I knew it was important to you."

"That's the only reason?"

She swallows, fights the urge to look away from his penetrating stare. "No."

"Then why?"

"Because I miss you." His eyes slip closed and he takes a deep breath, the rapid expansion of his chest pulling the starched shirt tight. She gives him a moment and then continues, trying to keep her voice steady. "I miss you and I wanted to see you. I wanted to try to -" She turns on the stool, orienting her body in his direction; if she's doing this, she's going to face it head on. "I want to fix this."

His eyes are stormy when he opens them and looks at her, his brows pulled into a tight knot. "Can we? Fix it, I mean."

"I hope so," she answers without hesitation.

"I don't know, Kate. I want to but I -" He swallows and looks away, his hands toying with the still full mug of coffee.

"You what?"

"I don't know if I can do it again. Not like that."

A cold fist clamps around her lungs, choking the breath and hope out of her in one violent spasm. "Okay," Kate whispers, her fingers twisting into the bunched silk covering her lap. "I understand that. But," she clears her throat, bringing her voice to full volume, "can you hear me out?"

"You mean you're actually going to _talk _to me? That's a first." His tone is heavy and she rocks back a little on her seat from the blow of his words, a pained whimper trapped deep inside her chest. Castle drops his head and shoves a hand through his hair, his face weary. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

"No. You're right." He swivels to look at her and Kate blinks back the tears prickling hotly behind her eyes. She'll get through this. She has to. "I don't talk to you and that's not fair. It's not because I don't want to, though. I do. I just -" She sighs and jumps off the stool, the hardwood cold against the soles of her feet. His eyes track her as she paces, the movement shaking the words loose, pushing them up her throat.

"You accused me of having one foot out the door."

"Kate - "

She waves a hand at him, stems the flow of his words. "You were right. But it wasn't for the reasons you thought. It wasn't because I wasn't committed or because I didn't want to be with you. It was - God, Castle. Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to be in a relationship that you're fairly certain is going to be the last one you'll ever have?"

"Yeah, I think I do," he answers and she stops pacing, takes two steps closer to him.

"I was scared. I still am. And I shut you out because of it. I made you doubt me. Us. And I'm sorry for that. I'm so sorry that I - I couldn't give you what you needed."

"What I needed?" He shakes his head, fingers gripping his own knees. "All I wanted or needed was for you to talk to me. I don't need soliloquies or full paragraph speeches but I do need to know what's going on inside your head. Four years of following you around have given me some idea but I'm not a mind reader, Kate. I know you play it close to the vest and I respect that but sometimes I need -"

"More," she finishes, trying to ignore the spiral of hope that twists through her chest at his switch to the present tense. "I know."

"I love you, Kate. I love you and I hoped that this," he waves a hands between them, "meant the same to you but -"

"Don't," she chokes out, an angry knot of emotion clogging her throat. "You have to stop saying that. Nothing has ever meant as much to me as this. _Nothing_." He stares at her and she steps closer, her voice shaking. "You _have_ to know that. You have to know how much I want this. How much I love you."

"No, Kate, I don't." His voice is soft and she closes her eyes and lets it drift over her, the comforting tone gentling the wild pounding of her heart. "How am I supposed to know that if you never _say_ it?"

Kate opens her eyes and meets his. "I love you." Her voice is strong and clear, the words finally finding their way through the crack inside her chest. "I'm _in_ love with you, Castle. I have been for years." She feels the dam break, tears slipping slowly over her cheeks, and she lets them flow, does nothing to stem the tide. "And I'm sorry it's taken me this long to be able to tell you. I'm sorry I hurt you. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I just - I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to let go of the fear and allow myself to be happy."

Castle holds out a hand and she takes it, his palm warm and smooth as his fingers wrap around hers. He pulls her forward and she steps between his legs, sighing as his arms band tightly around her, one hand sweeping over her waist and the other climbing up to nest in her hair. His neck is soft against her nose, the scent of starch and his cologne filling her lungs. Her stomach lurches when his lips skim over her forehead, his words gently rustling across the fine hair at her temple.

"I'm sorry too." She raises her head to protest and his fingers tighten slightly around the base of her skull, holding her steady against him. "I always assumed that when we finally did this, it would be easy. That we'd have gotten through or past all the obstacles and that all we'd have to do was just make the decision to be together. Clearly, I was wrong. Very, very wrong." He laughs against the side of her head and she smiles into his neck, her fingers twisting into the loose material gathered at the small of his back. "I was scared too, Kate. Scared that you'd never let me completely in and that I'd have to live with only being able to know and love the parts of you that you wanted to share. I should have told you that before. I should have forced the conversation instead of letting it fester, hoping that it'd just resolve on its own."

"We both could have done things differently." Kate leans back, sliding a hand around to rest on his chest, her fingers curving into the solid wall of muscle. She feels his breath catch under her palm, watched his eyes flutter briefly. "But _you_," she swipes her thumb along the edge of his buttons, feels his fingers tighten at her waist, "aren't to blame for this. I held back and ended up pushing you away and I'm -"

His lips coast over hers gently, stealing her unspoken apologies, stopping her heart. Sliding her hand up, she cups his cheek, the tips of her fingers tracing over the lines radiating out from the corners of his closed eyes. He breathes into the kiss, her name a quiet sigh on his tongue as it slips over the soft edge of her bottom lip.

"No more blame." He pulls back and catches her eye, thumb drawing a tight circle under her left ear. "No more apologies. We need to move forward, not keep looking back." He dips back down and kisses her again. Kate sinks into his chest, her fingers fisting in his hair. Castle resists her attempts to deepen the kiss, sweeping his lips over hers again and again until she stops pushing and submits to his slow exploration. His thumb drifts over her cheek, smudging the lines of dried salt that mark her skin, a low hum vibrating in his chest. "Tell me again," he whispers into her mouth, his voice shadowed by need.

"I love you." She paints the words onto the curve of his jaw, her tongue darting out to smooth the rough edges. "I love you so much."

The air rushes out of her lungs as he crushes her to his chest, her ribs compressing in the vise of his arms. "This isn't going to be easy," he mumbles into her hair, the current of his breath caressing the slope of her neck.

"I know."

"We're going to have to work for this. A lot."

"I know." She kisses his neck, tastes the staccato drum of his pulse. "I'm ready." Her hand curves around the base of his skull, an anchor. "Are you?"

"Dear god, yes."

Kate laughs into his shoulder as his arms loosen, his broad palms skimming over the cage of her ribs. He grips her sides and pushes, breaking the connection between their upper bodies. The light shining in his eyes highlights the dark circles of grief growing under them, casting a shadow over his tentative smile. The urge to kiss that smile, to feed off his joy, wells up in her chest and she darts forward, flicking her tongue briefly over the corner of his lips.

"We should probably take this slowly," he says, his thumbs rubbing aimlessly over the beaded bodice of her dress. "One step at a time."

"Okay."

"Okay?" He looks mildly stunned, his lips quirking down into a tiny frown.

"Okay," she repeats. "I want this to work, Castle. I know I need to earn your trust again and I know that's going to take time. We'll do this your way."

He stares at her for a moment and then pulls her back into his embrace, his lips glancing over the shell of her ear. "What if my way starts with taking you to bed right now?"

Kate tries to stop the violent shiver that wracks her body but can't; the deep timbre of his words dripping down over her skin like kerosene, the soft sweep of his tongue against her neck the only spark she needs to set her entire body aflame. "If that's what you want," she murmurs, her breasts scraping over his chest.

"What do _you_ want, Kate?"

She answers him with the surge of her hips, the hot press her of lips against the underside of his jaw. With a low growl, his arms wrap around her waist and he stands, hauling her body up with him as she squeaks into his neck. She always underestimates the secret strength hiding beneath the business shirts and blazers, his massive arms and chest more than capable of bearing the weight of her body. Her heart.

He carries her to the bedroom and strips her dress off slowly, takes his time rediscovering the dips and curves of her body. He worries her neck with his lips and teeth, his warm hands questing restlessly over her naked skin, pulling moans and whimpers from the recesses of her chest. She gives of herself freely, lets him feel and hear the depth of her desire and need for him.

He whispers his love to her as she lies pinned beneath him on the bed, her skin flushed and buzzing. For the first time, she responds in kind as he sinks down onto her, into her, his body blocking out the rest of the world. She pays her penance with the roll of her hips, the arch of her back, the whimpered pleas dancing on her tongue; finds forgiveness in the give of his lips, the quiver of his abdomen, the reverence in his eyes. They push each other higher, the room singing with the echoes of their cries, until they peak and stall, hands clasped tightly as they crash back down, together.

_fin_

* * *

**AN:** Seriously huge thanks to everyone that followed and favorited and reviewed. This fic has been a labor of love for me and I never would have been able to finish it without all of your support and encouragement. 'Til next time.

Jenny


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